Don't Come Easy
by MusketWriting
Summary: Found this on my laptop, written after Eurovision and left there for the summer. It's based off the Australian entry that I thought summed up the boys, it's not my usual style and a bit odd, but it essentially describes their pain and how they deal with it. Please give it a try


I can tell by your eyes you want more than this  
But can we be much more beyond these sheets?  
No I don't, don't wanna mess with your head  
But my love, it's hard to love again

The man stretched luxuriously as he surfaced from a deep sleep, sheets sliding like silk against his tanned skin, the contrast between light and dark stunning in the glow of the morning sun. A slender hand rested against his bicep and a head of fiery ringlets leant upon his chest and a luxurious sigh fell from red lips. She trailed a finger gently across the planes and sculpted muscle of his body and came to a halt, rubbing gently over a long silvery scar on his left.

"How did you get this one Aramis?" her voice was like honey and she rested herself on her forearms to gaze into his handsome face.

"Well" he murmured in his smooth, deep voice "I'm afraid that one's not very interesting mon cher" his large calloused hand cupped her delicate shoulder and he pressed gentle kisses to her porcelain skin.

"Tell me anyway" she pouted with a sweet giggle.

"About two months after Athos joined the Musketeers, we were sparring in the courtyard, you understand I had to show my superior skills off to the new recruits" he winked with a cheeky grin "unfortunately said recruits had forgotten to tidy the floor and my heel caught in some dirt, it's safe to say that was a spectacular fall and it allowed Athos to get in a lucky strike. Hence the scar, it bled an awful lot and he went white as a sheet, absolutely convinced he'd killed me"

"Aww my poor brave soldier, does it make it better if I…" she slowly lowered her head and traced the line with her tongue, enjoying the twitching of the muscles beneath the skin. "…do this?"

"Very much so" he groaned, head falling back into the softness of the pillow behind him and his hands convulsed, clenching in the bedclothes. "Adele dear, I have to go or I'll be late for morning muster, I'm sorry"

"Aww but Aramis, we have had hardly any time together lately" her pout was less playful now, eyes dulling with sadness "I can support us, we can run away together! Settle down somewhere in the countryside, Armand would never have to know and we could have hordes of little children to frolic around in the fields" her voice was filled with yearning towards the end and it stuck like a knife in his heart.

The image of a woman with masses of dark brown hair filled his mind, and it was all he could do to hold back the tears that were pressing furiously against the backs of his eyes, and swallow against the lump in his throat.  
The rounded swell of her stomach was pressing against her thin linen nightgown and he was singing softly in Spanish with his cheek pressed to it, enjoying the feel of his unborn child wiggling around.

The woman dissolved quickly into the shadows of his mind but the pain of the memories remained.  
If he had to liken it to anything, then he would say it felt like that time he had been shot in the shoulder and the ball had remained stuck within for hours and become infected.

That had been a terrible forty eight hours.

"Adele" he breathed, voice cracking slightly midway "we can't. It just wouldn't. I mean" he broke off, unable to finish his sentence.

In the face of such a proposal, he was gripped with terror. After the disaster in his life he had found it hard to allow himself to love again, why else would he have cultivated such a reputation for himself as being a ladies' man. It was just so much easier to meet women, some just as lonely and hurting as he was, to have some fun for the night, to forget their troubles and then move on without getting caught up in the strings of relationships.

"Why not?" she fixed him with puppy dog eyes, returning to her task of tracing his skin and attempting to guilt him into giving her an answer.

"I am a soldier Adele, I have pledged my life to serving the King, I cannot just abandon my duty on a-a- a whim!"

"A whim!" she cried, rearing back with a slightly insulted expression on her face "I love you, we have been together for a year now, is it really so wrong for me to want something more?"

"No of course it is not wrong but, you need to find someone else to have that dream with Adele. I can't give you that I'm sorry."  
He began to pull away slightly from the arms of his most recent lover and viciously pushed down the pain in his chest, unwilling to admit that he was maybe beginning to feel something more for this woman, something he had been determined not to feel again.  
He stamped it down again "you deserve better, not someone who is more broken than they are whole, someone who can love you, give you what you want and who has not left pieces of himself elsewhere"

"I don't care Aramis! I love you, how you are now and that's all that matters!"

"But I'm not all here! I don't want to mess with your head Adele, I can't give my all to you, I'm sorry"

"No I'm sorry Aramis" she responded, her face set and cold "I think you need to leave"

The sound of a horse and carriage coming to a halt in front of the town house froze them in their places before Adele vaulted from the bed and peered out the window.

"It's Armand! He's home early!" she cried in terror "you must leave, he can't see you Aramis!"

She frantically shoved at Aramis to get him to leave the bed and thrust his various weaponry at him, urging him to get dressed.

"Can I leave before he gets in? he moved tentatively towards the door.

"No you must go out the window"

"I've tried that once before and it didn't end well" he peeked out the window and went slightly pale, pulling his head back and shaking it tersely "no it won't do. I'll hide until he's left"

"Aramis, if you love me you will leave through the window"

He hesitated momentarily before rolling his eyes and snapping the bands of his suspenders into place on his shoulders. The next moment he was hanging by his hands from the window ledge, shoulders bunching with the strain and eyes clenched shut.

Don't look down Aramis, don't look down and everything will be fine. It's a long way down but you'll figure that out somehow, everything is going to be alright. At least it's a good distraction from the conversation you just had.

It don't come easy and it don't come cheap  
Been burned too many times to love easily  
Don't mistake me, my love runs deeps  
But it don't come easy, it don't come cheap  
No, not with me

I used to move in fast to erase my past  
But it never works, no, it never lasts, no  
In my mind I gotta get things right  
Take it slow before I jump this time 

Porthos had never been so aware of the colour of his skin before this moment in his life, at the Court being different was normal, although he was still slightly unusual for the court. There weren't that many black men in the Court of Miracles, that was one of the reasons Charon and he had become such good friends, a moment of bonding had led to a lifelong friendship, no something deeper than that, a brother.

Well he had thought it was a relationship that would be lifelong, but he had been disabused of that notion the moment he had made his decision to join the Musketeers.

At first Flea hadn't been happy with his decision, unable to understand how he could possibly bear to leave the life they had built for themselves, leave their little family. Then he had spilled his heart out to her, explained all the ways he still felt out of place, still felt like something was missing.  
All the things he wanted to do with his life, he wanted to do so much more!

The distant look in his eyes had apparently sold it for her, not that he had been aware of that at the time, he had merely been musing on what it would be like to wear that royal blue uniform cloak.  
To be part of something bigger, to protect rather than to destroy.

Flea had understood that, but had broken his heart and said no when he asked her to come with him, the Court was her home.

It had been difficult to let his little sister go but her support had made it slightly bearable, Charon's refusal had broken him, torn him apart.

He had been with the Musketeers for five years now and he had yet to speak to his first brother, the brother he had chosen and who he had spent his life with for over a decade. He hadn't understood Charon's vehement refusal to accept his decision, he held such a strong hatred of the soldiers that enforced the laws that put them in such an invidious position and wouldn't listen to anything he said.

"But Charon, the Musketeers are honourable, it is the Red Guard which kill and maim indiscriminately" he had cried, hands splayed wide.

Charon had merely folded his arms and frowned "there is no difference Porthos and you are a fool if you think there are".

Those had been the last words to be exchanged between them and he still cringed to think on them, having gone straight afterwards and petitioned Treville to give him his commission. Treville hadn't seemed to care about the colour of his skin or where he had come from, after a few cursory questions about the Court and his past he had simply handed him a piece of paper and welcomed him as a Musketeer recruit.

It had taken him a year to earn his full commission which was a shorter amount of time than many of the other recruits but it had really been a formality, he had been going on full Musketeer missions for months beforehand, once Aramis and he had become close really.

He would always remember the day he had met Aramis, he had been with the Musketeers for a month already but had yet to really connect with any of them, most were the sons of upper class gentlemen too full of breeding and class to fraternise with a black man. Therefore it was a refreshing surprise to emerge from the stables into the courtyard and spot a company of men he had never met before come galloping through the archway on jet black stallions and falling into a scrum of cheering and slapping of backs.

One of the men pulled away from the scrum, a brilliant smile lighting up his face and a feather bouncing jovially up and down on top of his hat as he sauntered over towards the mess table, and sank down gratefully into its solid supporting surface. Porthos slowly inched his way across the courtyard and lowered himself carefully to sit next to this miniature sun of a man and filled a mug with water from the pitcher, offering it to the still beaming man with a tentative smile.

"Now this is nice, can't say I've seen your face around here before" the man grinned back and Porthos was mesmerised by the way his perfectly groomed moustache wriggled slightly up and down as he spoke.

"I'm Porthos" he smiled with a nervous little wave "I joined a month ago and I could say the same about you to be honest, I haven't seen your face around here and I would remember it if I had" he thanked his dark complexion as it hid his blush that began to burn in his cheeks.

Thankfully the other man seemed to find it amusing and chuckled softly, a gloved hand coming up to cover his mouth. "You are a breath of fresh air mon ami, I'm Aramis, it's a pleasure to meet you" that same gloved hand stretched across the table in an invitation for him to take it, and Porthos couldn't breathe for a minute as the enormity of this moment struck him.

He had the opportunity here to make a friend who would understand the struggle of looking different, and he could possible regain what he had left behind in the Court.  
Slow down Porthos, he reminded himself, no need to jump so quickly, this could be great but take it slow! He clasped the hand warmly and smiled broadly, "how about we get a drink to celebrate your return from your mission?" he asked.

"That sounds absolutely brilliant, I like the way you think"

No, it don't come easy, no, it don't come cheap  
Been burned too many times to love easily  
Don't mistake me, my love runs deeps  
But it don't come easy, it don't come cheap  
No, not with me

And if you think I've got a heart of stone  
You couldn't be more wrong, oh...  
You might think I've been afraid too long  
Afraid of love 

A low keening moan echoed around the sparse room, a haunting, chilling noise that was full of despair and would bring even the coldest of hearts to tears.

Athos, Lieutenant of the Musketeers, renowned stone faced, cold hearted, taciturn soldier lay spread-eagled on his low cot. One foot was flat on the floor, knee bent over the edge and arm thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the rays of sun that were valiantly fighting their way through the moth eaten drapes at his window.  
One ray flashed across the lower half of his face and a trail glittered gently across his cheeks, revealing the tears that were slowly rolling from beneath his arm, before dropping off the edge of the cliff that was his chin.

A stench of stale and sour wine floated on the breeze that was gently gusting through the broken panel of glass in the window pane, and if it weren't for that the air would be thick, suffocating in its intensity.

"Please forgive me" a broken voice cried out hoarsely, "Please, I didn't want to".

With a thump the man had been relocated to the floor, arm trapped awkwardly beneath him, legs still propped up high on the cot and cheekbone smarting where it had smashed into the floor.  
A red mark began to bloom, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows and then a sitting position to glare sullenly at the floorboards.

"Damn it all" he cursed angrily, punching the floor with a trembling fist then scrabbling around to find another bottle of wine he could drown his sorrows in.

Peering through bleary vision, he tried to ascertain what was real, which version of his wife was real and how he could destroy her this time.

A sharp rapping on the door rent the air and at the same time split his head in two like an egg that the local Madame had just cracked for her morning baking.

"Athos! Open up you stubborn bastard!" a distinctly masculine voice cried from beyond the solid oak of the door, dispelling the images floating around his brain, marking them out as the delusional hallucinations of an inebriated mind.

"You had better not be drowning in your own drunken excretions in there Athos, I know you!"

"Alright, alright" he roared back, dragging himself painfully to his feet and staggering over to the front door, stockinged feet sliding on the floorboards. "I'm coming!"

Upon flinging open the door he was met with Aramis' thunderous face and fist raised about to rap vigorously upon his face this time.

"Well, what do you want?" he demanded impatiently, hands on hips and eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Athos, thank goodness. I had feared for your life this time" Aramis paused and peered closely at his dour friend's face, "Athos, have you been… crying?"

"What are you talking about man, don't be so ridiculous. Now what was it that possessed you to come battering upon my door at such outrageous hours in the morning?"

"Outrageous hours?" Aramis echoed in bemusement, "Athos it's past midday!"

The chiming of the cathedral bells lent credence to his words, chiming a quarter past the hour as the two men stood toe to toe, one on the streets of Paris and one on the threshold of a Parisian apartment.

"I… had not realised the time, I take it Treville was angered by my absence"

"Displeased would be more apt a description, he was mostly concerned about you, as was I" Aramis pressed his way past his brother and into the apartment, halting at the chaos of the interior. Throwing the crumpled sheet onto the cot he took a seat and placed his hat in his lap before levelling an intense gaze at Athos. "Now are you going to tell me the truth?"

"The truth about what?" Athos seemed genuinely bemused but his air of innocence was not fooling Aramis in the slightest.

"You may like to pretend that you have a heart of stone, that you're completely unfeeling and nothing can penetrate that thick skin you've drawn over yourself and maintain with a sea of vintage red. You couldn't be more wrong Ath, as I said I know you and I know the you that is hidden from others eyes. So you're lying when you say you weren't crying, now please just tell me!" Aramis pleaded, wide brown eyes glistening with helpless tears as he wished for his friend to unburden himself to him.

"There was a woman, she died." Athos finally revealed, back to Aramis as he gazed unseeing out of the window, his view taken up by a lush green field and a sturdy tree in the distance where a white cloth fluttered in the breeze. With a shuddering exhale, he clenched his fists and carried on "I killed her, it was my duty to uphold the law Aramis, but I still wonder what if? What if she had her reasons? Or what if I had said hang the law? But I didn't and now I must live with the consequences, five years I have lived with it and you know how well I have coped."

He half turned, hand resting on the sill, eyes shadowed by the ghosts that haunt him as he gazed mournfully at his brother.

From the look in his eyes however, he understood entirely. More so than just out of sympathy, the pain was mutual it was something his brother had experience with and Athos watched in astonishment as a tear slid down Aramis' tan cheek.

"I understand Athos, more than you know. I also know that you are a good and honourable man so whatever action you took then it was the right one."  
He pushed himself to his feet and moved to his brother's side, cupping Athos' cheek with one warm palm and resting the other on his shoulder to force him to meet his eyes. "You are our brother and we will support you through anything, and if you learn anything from my experiences, let it be that you aren't afraid to cry Athos. It is not shameful."

The dam he had painstakingly constructed over the years finally collapsed under the pressure of all the tiny little cracks that had been created when Aramis and Porthos had gradually chipped away at his defences. He was surprised to find tears rolling down his face, unfamiliar with the sensation as it had been over five years since this particular show of emotion had surfaced.

The next moment he was silently sobbing his heart out in Aramis' arms, both of them sunk carefully to the floor beside the bed, even in his despair he wished to remain dignified.

"We will always be here for you Athos, no matter what!" Aramis whispered into the thick locks beneath his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as his emotionally overwrought brother slipped back into slumber. "We will always be here"

But it don't come easy  
Been burned too many times to love easily  
Don't mistake me, my love runs deeps  
But it don't come easy, it don't come cheap

No, not with me  
Oh... no, not with me  
Oh... don't mistake me, my love runs deeps  
But it don't come easy, it don't come cheap  
No, not with me


End file.
